


adrenaline rush

by thunderylee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, M/M, magical & physical violence, side character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-31
Updated: 2006-03-31
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: In which Harry and Draco fight each other, fight alongside each other, and fight with themselves.





	adrenaline rush

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“ _Sectumsempra_!”

The spell hissed past Harry’s ear and hit the tree directly in front of him. He took cover in a nearby shrub as the trunk slashed itself and fell to the ground in a dozen pieces, the topmost branches landing right by Harry’s foot.

He peered out of the bushes, squinting through his dirty glasses and the fringe of hair that had plastered to his sweaty forehead. He didn’t need a magic eye to know who had cast that spell; only two other wizards knew of its existence, one of whom Harry had recently learned was dead.

Fucking Malfoy. Ron and Hermione had told him that this was a bad idea, but Harry was adamant about finding out for sure which side Malfoy was on. It was debatable since the Order had received information that Malfoy was on Voldemort’s shit list due to his failure to follow through with his assignment. They knew that he had been hiding out with Snape somewhere in northern Scotland, at least until Snape had randomly showed up during dinner at headquarters a couple weeks ago.

No one had seen him since that tragic night of Professor Dumbledore’s demise, making for a rather grand entrance indeed. Harry remembered hearing crashing sounds as people dropped their glasses and let their forks carelessly fall to their plates, but otherwise there had been complete silence until Snape spoke.

“I’m on your side,” he had said, his face expressionless. “I trust that you will believe me. I did what I had to do in order to save Draco’s life – per Dumbledore’s instruction – but the Dark Lord does not accept substitutes. However, Draco was privy to information that pertains to the complicated procedure of the Dark Lord’s downfall, therefore making him Death Eater Enemy Number One. He refuses to confide in me because, and these are his words, ‘I don’t know whose side you’re on.'”

“Does that mean he’s on our side now?” Remus had interrupted.

“I don’t know and I don’t have time to speculate,” Snape had replied bitterly. “They’re looking for me too. I have to return in case Draco decides to run. He is safe while he’s with me. I will continue to press him and let you know the minute I uncover anything of importance.”

With a crack that echoed through the still room, he had disappeared. The next morning, his death was listed in _The Daily Prophet_ as yet another attack by Voldemort.

“He wanted us to know,” Ron had said softly. “V-Voldemort, that is.”

“Does that mean he has Malfoy?” Harry had wondered out loud. “Or did he escape?”

Hermione had skimmed through the rest of the paper. “If he had Malfoy, he would have wanted us to know that also. My guess is that Voldemort found their hiding spot and Snape sacrificed himself to give Malfoy the chance to get away.”

“Honorable bastard,” Ron had muttered.

Harry remembered all of this as he crouched in the bushes, his eyes darting back and forth for a hint of Malfoy’s location. He didn’t know whether Malfoy had attacked because he knew that it was Harry or just because he had heard an intruder. His next course of action depended on what side Malfoy was on.

He couldn’t very well shout, “Oi, Malfoy! It’s me, Harry! I’m here to save you!” and expect Malfoy to come running gratefully into his open arms, after all.

Was that even why he was here? Harry hadn’t given it much thought since it was set in his mind that he was going to traipse off and hunt for Malfoy instead of Horcruxes. Was he here simply for the information, or did Malfoy’s wellbeing play a part?

Those were questions he could worry about later. For now, he had to concentrate on not getting murdered (accidentally?) by Malfoy.

_He is safe while he’s with me._ Snape’s words echoed in Harry’s mind as he chanced movement towards the fallen tree trunk. Obviously, that meant that Malfoy wasn’t safe anymore. Harry was sure it was just his “saving people thing” kicking into high gear, but he kept trying to tell himself that he was here for the information and should he happen to save Malfoy in the process, so be it. That was, of course, if Malfoy didn’t kill him first.

“ _Stupefy_!” Harry cast aimlessly, not really intending to hit his target. He more or less wanted Malfoy to hear his voice and possibly recognize him for who he was, and hopefully this confusing situation would be clearer.

His spell was greeted with silence, during which Harry strained his ears for any audible reaction from Malfoy. The wind howled through the remaining treetops and sent chills down Harry’s spine, mixing with the already chilly weather despite being the middle of summer. Dusk was also approaching, making it even more difficult for Harry to see through the seemingly desolate woods.

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Harry jumped back just in time for the blinding green light to disintegrate an entire foot of land in the exact spot he had been hiding. Well, that answered that question.

Acting fast, he searched his entire brain for what he remembered of maths from primary school, determining Malfoy’s exact location based on the angle and direction of the curse and immediately sending a nonverbal disarming spell that way. He, Ron, and Hermione had spent a lot of time trying to master nonverbal magic; however, it was rather difficult to concentrate when he was standing on the edge of a giant hole in the ground from a curse that was meant for him.

A flash of scarlet light shot out from his wand and Harry held his breath, waiting for any sign that his spell had made contact. Through the rustling of the wind, a faint clinking sound could be heard in the distance. In his struggle to focus in the impending darkness, he caught side of a thin object bouncing down the branches of a tree as it made its way down to the ground.

Malfoy was unarmed. Inwardly thanking the primary school system of England, Harry stepped out from behind the fallen tree and decided to make his presence be known.

“Malfoy!” he shouted. “I’m not here to kill you!”

“Shut the fuck _up_!” a voice hissed loudly from several feet above him. “You’re not the only person looking for me, you know.”

Harry almost smiled. Only Malfoy would continue to be arrogant when members of both sides would be overjoyed to have his head on a silver platter.

Keeping his wand at the ready just in case he didn’t happen to be the only Malfoy-hunter out tonight, Harry crept towards the sound of Malfoy’s voice and lowered his own.

“It has come to my attention that you have information I want,” he said. “I can offer you protection.”

Malfoy scoffed. “ _Protection_ , Potter? Protection from whom? You can’t even protect your own arse from the Dark Lord; what makes you think you can protect _me_?”

His words led Harry to believe that there might be a chance that Malfoy was on their side, but he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions just yet.

Ignoring Malfoy’s questions, Harry asked his own. “Why did you try to kill me?”

There was a pause. “I thought that if the Dark Lord learned that _I_ was the one who had finally brought you down, he might forgive me.”

“Doubtful,” Harry muttered. “But I can’t blame you for trying.”

He approached the trunk of Malfoy’s tree and looked straight up. He couldn’t see anything but the branches directly above him; however, he did notice Malfoy’s wand as his eyes roamed downwards. He retrieved it and stashed it in his robes as he decided to answer Malfoy’s question.

“I can protect you by taking care of Voldemort once and for all,” Harry whispered, confident that Malfoy was now close enough to hear him. “Your information might lead me in the right direction and make the entire process go faster.”

Harry heard another scoff. “And how do I know that you won’t kill me once you get the information?”

“If I wanted to kill you,” Harry said slowly, “I would have done so already.”

Malfoy seemed to consider this. “Even so, you could still have me thrown in Azkaban. I don’t really fancy a father/son reunion under those circumstances.”

“We can help each other, Malfoy.” Harry tried to sound sincere. “You can help me destroy Voldemort, and I can help you escape incarceration. I’ll tell them the truth.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Or you can keep running,” Harry continued, shrugging for effect. “I’m going to kill Voldemort either way, but it will happen a lot sooner if you help me.”

“If I were going to run,” Malfoy said dryly, “I would have done so already.”

_Touché_ , Harry thought. Malfoy obviously wanted some sort of promise from Harry, possibly an Unbreakable Vow that Harry would be true to his word and they would both make it out of this alive. Unfortunately, there was no third person to validate the Vow, whether Harry would have actually gone through with it or not.

He didn’t get much of a chance to speculate, though, because the next thing he knew, he was being forced to the ground by the force and momentum of someone who had jumped out of a tree onto his chest, knocking his wand out of his hand.

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” Harry spat, twisting his body in an effort to release himself from Malfoy’s grip. He could now see the ice-grey eyes clearly, inches from his own as Malfoy struggled to keep Harry restrained to the ground.

“Do you seriously think I’m that daft?” Malfoy hissed. “You don’t want to save me, Potter. You want to save yourself and your Mudblood-loving friends. Whether I live or die was never a concern to you until now, now that I actually have something that you want. Should I give it to you, you would return to your previous state of – for lack of a better term – not giving a shit.”

“Malfoy, get off me!” Harry whispered violently, doing everything in his power to roll out from underneath Malfoy.

“Admit it, Potter!” demanded Malfoy, banging Harry’s wrists to the ground for effect. “Admit it or I’ll punch you.”

“Fucking hell, Malfoy,” said Harry irritably. “This has nothing to do with anything. I told you I’d get you out of this if you help me and it doesn’t make a damn difference whether I give a shit about you or not.”

Malfoy let go of Harry’s wrist just long enough to thrust his fist into Harry’s nose. Harry’s head bounced back against the ground from the impact, but he took advantage of his free left hand to grab a hold of Malfoy’s robes and push him to the side. Malfoy kicked at him, barely grazing his kneecap, and Harry rolled them over so that he was now the one towering over Malfoy.

“Stop it!” he cried. “You don’t want to fight me. You want to fight them and I want to fight them. We’re on _the same side_.”

“I’m not on your side,” Malfoy declared indignantly, struggling breathlessly. “I’m not on your side and I’m not on his side. I’m on my own side, where I don’t have to answer to anyone but me. It was a mistake staying with Snape – he was two-timing everyone, did you know? He led those bastards right to our hiding spot and then decided at the last minute to be fucking noble and -”

“I already knew that,” Harry said impatiently. “Tell me something I don’t know!”

“You’re bleeding on my robes,” said Malfoy, wrinkling his nose.

Harry looked down and, true enough, there was a stain quickly forming directly underneath his nose. With a lapse of bad judgment, he brought one hand up to his face to touch his busted nose briefly, feeling the thick fluid coat his fingers in the process.

Malfoy took the opportunity to hit Harry again, although this time he only caught the side of his face. Harry abruptly decided that he was tired of trying to be nice and threw a punch back, striking Malfoy’s jaw and catching him completely off guard.

With both of them throwing punches at each other, it was rather difficult for Harry to keep Malfoy restrained. They rolled around the base of the tree trunk, the roots digging into Harry’s spine on every other go. His face felt beaten and bruised, and he vaguely heard the _crack_ as his glasses were split in two and fell from the bridge of his broken nose.

“Dammit, Malfoy,” Harry sputtered through a mouthful of blood; whose blood it was, he didn’t know anymore. “Fucking stop already. We’re making a racket and if there really are Death Eaters looking for you -”

Harry was silenced as Malfoy’s fist made contact with his jaw. A piercing pain shot through Harry’s body as his teeth dug into his tongue, and a fire of rage formed behind his unfocused eyes. Not caring anymore about Malfoy’s valuable information or even if Voldemort himself happened upon them while on a moonlit stroll, Harry threw Malfoy to the ground and began punching him wherever he could reach.

Malfoy fought back just as aggressively. From what Harry could see without his glasses, Malfoy’s face was scattered with purple bruises and his mouth appeared misaligned. It no longer mattered exactly why they were fighting, only that Harry come out on top.

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

Harry pulled Malfoy flat against him as the curse sailed over both of their heads. The tree trunk behind them exploded, and Harry grabbed Malfoy by the robes and rolled him out of the way just before the rest of the trunk crashed to the ground.

Not bothering to second-guess himself, he tossed Malfoy his wand and aimed his own over the fallen tree as he crouched up to peer blindly at their unexpected company.

“ _Impedimenta_!” he shouted, aiming towards the third voice.

“What the fuck is _Impedimenta_ going to do?” Malfoy whispered heatedly. “ _Incendio_!”

Harry’s jaw dropped as all of the surrounding trees burst into flames and began falling to the ground, creating what looked like the world’s largest campfire. He felt a pull of his robes just as the tree they were hiding behind joined the others in orange and red fury.

“Come _on_!” hissed Malfoy.

Harry scrambled to his feet and followed the blur of Malfoy through the even blurrier surroundings. “I can’t see a fucking thing!” he called out.

“I know,” said Malfoy, sounding more irritated than sorry. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

Harry would have been more unnerved by those words had they not been trying to out-run a forest fire. As it was, he simply nodded to himself and continued to keep his eyes locked on the white-blonde of Malfoy’s hair as they ran.

“Fire spreads in the direction of the wind,” Harry said, thinking out loud. “Shouldn’t we be going to the side or something?”

“I told you to trust me, Potter,” Malfoy spat bitterly. “I’ve been in these woods a very long time. I know my way around.”

Harry made the mistake of looking behind him. What appeared to be a tidal wave of flames were chasing them at an impossible speed, catching up with every step they took. As he tried to remember what he had learned in primary school science about fire, he felt another tug on his robes and the next thing he knew, he was free-falling through air.

A second later, he was underwater. Water! Of course. He held his breath to float back to the surface, but Malfoy pulled him upwards and kept dragging him away from the edge as he coughed and shook the water out of his hair.

“I didn’t know if you could swim or not,” Malfoy said quietly. “But it was our only option.”

“I can swim just fine,” Harry replied, wiping his eyes. “Where are we?”

“Some lake.” Malfoy shrugged. “It’s not far from where Sn – where I’m staying.”

Treading water at a comfortable pace, Harry turned to see the fire transform into smoke as it touched the edge of the lake. “I’ve never seen fire move that fast,” he remarked.

“Magical fire spreads faster,” Malfoy explained. “In all directions, regardless of the wind.”

“Oh,” said Harry, feeling stupid.

“So more likely than not,” Malfoy went on, “it burned those bastards up.”

Harry chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “A little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Hey, you know me.” Malfoy offered a smirk. “I don’t fuck around.”

“Obviously.” Harry squinted in an attempt to see the other end of the lake. “How do we get out of here?”

“It’s not that big,” said Malfoy dismissingly. “We can swim to the other side. I must admit, I’m rather grateful that I don’t have to haul your arse across.”

“You could always let me drown.” Harry began to swim in the direction that Malfoy was pointing.

“I could,” Malfoy agreed.

Neither one spoke until they could feel land under their feet and hoisted themselves out of the water.

“It’s fucking cold,” Malfoy complained.

Harry’s gaze traveled towards the fire still raging on the other side of the lake. “You’d think it’d be warmer. Or does magical fire not put off heat either?”

“No, it does,” said Malfoy. “It’s just that the wind is blowing the other way now. Besides, all we’d get is the smoke. Come on, my cottage isn’t far.”

Even through Harry’s distorted vision, Malfoy’s “cottage” looked incredibly out of place in the middle of a forest. With pristine marble walls and a stone porch, Harry thought that it would have fit better in an upscale London neighbourhood.

“Wow, Malfoy, one would think you don’t want to draw attention to yourself,” Harry muttered sarcastically.

Malfoy whipped his head around, a shocked expression on his face. “You can see it?”

“Malfoy, anyone in a ten-mile radius would be able to see it,” Harry said exasperatedly.

Malfoy’s eyes widened. “You really don’t want to kill me.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Snape charmed this cottage,” Malfoy said slowly. “Only we didn’t trust each other enough to make one of us a Secret Keeper, so he used a different kind of charm. Only someone who didn’t wish harm to either one of us would be able to not only see it, but actually breech the wards and enter.”

“Oh,” Harry said again, not knowing what to say.

“Well, come on then.” Malfoy headed up the steps to the porch and glanced at Harry over his shoulder. “You may as well come in and warm up.”

Harry silently cast a drying spell on himself and followed Malfoy up the stairs and through the extravagant front door. Once inside, he felt like he was in a mansion. “This is like a magical tent!”

Malfoy scoffed. “Better. Tents are for half-breeds and Mud-” He stopped short and cleared his throat. “Do Weasel – _Weasley_ and Granger know where you are?”

“No,” Harry answered, feeling the heat rush to his face. “I kind of wanted to do this on my own.”

“Be grateful you did,” Malfoy said sharply. “If I had seen them with you, I probably would have ran.”

“Why?” Harry demanded. “They want the information as much as I do. The three of us are in this together -”

“Yet you didn’t bring them with you tonight,” Malfoy drawled.

Harry stopped and folded his arms over his chest. “They didn’t want me to go. They said we could do it without you. We’ve made a bit of progress, I’ll have you know. I just figured you might be able to make things easier for us.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Malfoy mocked.

“Because you want him dead as much as I do. Even if it is just to save your own arse.”

Malfoy turned and met Harry’s eyes. “I’m impressed, Potter. All of your stalking has paid off. You appear to know me very well indeed.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “The hell I do. The Malfoy I know would have let me burn up in that fire.”

Malfoy didn’t blink. “The Potter I know would have let me been hit by that curse.”

_Touché_ again. Harry almost smiled. “What was all of that fighting about then?” he asked. “Your face looks like a deflated football, and I’m sure mine isn’t much better.”

“A deflated _what_?” Malfoy inquired. “Never mind. Snape’s old room is down that hallway, but I doubt you want to sleep there. There’s a couch that pulls out into a bed -”

“Wait,” said Harry, cutting Malfoy off. “You mean to tell me there’s only two bedrooms in this place?”

“Snape spelled it, not me.” Malfoy rolled his eyes, implying to Harry that if he had his way, this “cottage” would have been an exact replica of Malfoy Manor, perhaps bigger.

“And what makes you think I’m staying the night?” Harry added, trying to act like this thought hadn’t just occurred to him.

“Because I refuse to make important decisions when I’m _tired_ , Potter.” Malfoy’s voice was impatient, as though he were speaking to a small child. “And I know you’re stubborn enough to stay here until you get your answer. Therefore, one could only assume it was an unspoken agreement that you would sleep here and we would continue our arguments in the morning.”

“Fine,” Harry agreed. “I don’t suppose you have an owl that I can send to Ron and Hermione?”

Malfoy yawned dramatically and glared briefly at Harry. “No, I do not. They’ll just have to kill you when you get back.”

“Or something worse.” Harry cringed, not wanting to think about Ron and Hermione’s reactions when they found out where he had been, who he had been with, and how many times he had barely escaped death.

Malfoy stepped into a well-lit room and gestured grandly towards the couch. “I hope you know how to work it because I sure as hell don’t. It was something from Snape’s house that doesn’t require magic.”

“I can figure it out,” Harry said smugly. “Um… thank you.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For… er…”

Malfoy smirked. “Don’t mention it. Good night.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Harry alone in the exquisite-looking living room of sorts. He opened the sofabed and suspiciously eyed the sheets which were already fitted to it, then realized that he was too tired to care. He had barely removed his robes and clothing before he collapsed onto the lumpy mattress and waved his wand to extinguish the lights.

He had just closed his eyes when the door slammed open and he shot straight up, clutching the covers to his chest and aiming his wand at the intruder.

“Relax, Potter, it’s only me,” Malfoy’s voice echoed through the otherwise silent room. “My conscience won’t let me sleep until I thank you also, so there you have it.”

“You have a conscience?” Harry replied sarcastically.

“Sometimes,” said Malfoy. “How are you at healing charms?”

“Huh? Er, okay, I guess.”

“I can do them well on other people, but not myself,” he explained, approaching the pull-out bed. “I don’t know about you, but my face is throbbing.”

Harry hadn’t thought about it, but now that Malfoy had mentioned it, his own face was starting to voice its opinion to his brain. “All right, then.” He scooted towards the edge of the couch, taking care to keep himself covered by the blankets. “You do me first.”

Malfoy snorted and pointed his wand at Harry’s nose. “You wish. _Episkey_.”

Harry would have blushed at the misunderstood innuendo, but his face was rather preoccupied returning to normal as Malfoy cast spell after spell at the assorted cuts and bruises.

“Did I break your jaw, too?”

“I don’t think so.” Harry moved his jaw to tell for sure and didn’t feel any pain. “Bit the hell out of my tongue, though.”

Malfoy winced. “Yeah, that hurts. Anywhere else?”

“I think that tree root dug into my back,” said Harry, reaching back with his hand to feel for any bumps or cuts.

“Mine too,” said Malfoy. “If it’s a spinal bruise, there’s nothing I can do. That’s a little more advanced than everyday healing charms.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt that bad, so I guess it’s okay.” Harry raised his wand to clean up Malfoy’s face, but Malfoy pushed it down.

“Let me see,” demanded Malfoy, gesturing for Harry to turn around. “It could still be damaged and not hurt. If you have a spinal injury, you should go straight to a professional healer.”

Against his better judgment, Harry turned around and exposed his bare back for Malfoy’s view.

“Hmm… looks okay. Tell me if this hurts.”

Harry felt the smallest amount of pressure being applied to the middle of his spine, indirectly making him arch his back. “No, that doesn’t hurt.”

“How about now?” Malfoy pressed harder, using both thumbs to surround the vertebrae.

“No.” Harry had to fight to keep from letting a noise of content escape. He had never had his back massaged before and it was rather enjoyable.

Malfoy ran his thumbs up both sides of Harry’s spine and back down again with even more pressure. “No?”

As Malfoy reached the top of Harry’s tailbone, Harry could not stop his breath from hitching. Malfoy paused. “Shit, that sounded like it hurt.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head violently. “I mean, it does kind of hurt, but it also feels good.” The minute the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to smack himself.

“Oh.” The mattress dipped with Malfoy’s weight as he knelt behind Harry and continued rubbing along his lower back. Now that he was actually allowed to enjoy it, Harry paid no attention to the low grunts and groans that were emerging from his lungs as Malfoy’s fingers kneaded his skin.

After a minute or so, Malfoy raised his hands and began working Harry’s shoulder blades. Harry found himself tossing his head back when Malfoy hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Potter, you really have to quit doing that.”

Malfoy’s voice sounded like it was being spoken directly into Harry’s ear. Harry, who had been rather out of it, squinted his eyes open and made a confused noise.

“You’re… _moaning_ ,” Malfoy said. “It’s quite distracting.”

Those words seemed to wake Harry up from his trance. “I still need to heal your face.”

“That would be nice,” said Malfoy dryly.

Harry turned around to see Malfoy’s face rather flushed despite it’s array of purple bruises. He noticed Malfoy’s eyes glance downwards and realized that he had not bothered to return the covers to their previous state, his boxers the only garment keeping him from complete nudity.

Malfoy cleared his throat awkwardly, and as Harry followed his eyes he was mortified to see that Malfoy was staring at the noticeable bulge in his boxers. He didn’t remember getting an erection, but there it was in all its glory, straining against the thin fabric.

Malfoy’s eyes shot up to Harry’s, his expression unreadable. “Heal my face, Potter. _Please_.”

Harry raised his wand with a shaky arm and performed a series of healing spells until Malfoy’s face was flawless. Harry reckoned that he was better at healing spell than he had thought, either that or he hadn’t hit Malfoy that hard to begin with.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that, however, because the minute Harry lowered his wand, Malfoy pounced on him. At first, Harry couldn’t believe that Malfoy was trying to pick a fight again, but that thought flew out of his ear when Malfoy crushed their mouths together in a frenzied kiss.

Harry was about to protest when he realized two things: one, that Malfoy also had an erection, one which was currently pressing against his rather adamantly through their clothing; and two, he really didn’t want to.

Wrapping his arms around Malfoy’s back, Harry angled his head to deepen the kiss. Malfoy moaned as his tongue was more than welcomed into Harry’s mouth and greeted with his own. Holding himself up with one hand, Malfoy attempted to unfasten his robes with the other, all the while attached to Harry at the lips. Harry tried to help but ended up sliding the robes down Malfoy’s arms once they had been opened.

Malfoy only wore boxers under his robes, the contents of which were thrusting erratically against Harry’s equally as hard cock. Swallowing each other’s moans, Harry lowered his hands to Malfoy’s arse while Malfoy snaked a hand between them and shoved it directly into Harry’s boxers.

Harry groaned loudly as Malfoy began stroking him and nibbling on his bottom lip. He felt Malfoy’s lips kiss their way down his chest as his boxers were swiftly pulled off, and the next thing he knew, his cock was engulfed by a hot, wet mouth.

“Fucking shit,” Harry swore, placing both hands on Malfoy’s head and grabbing two fistfuls of hair. “Now _that_ feels good.”

Harry couldn’t see him very clearly, but he could swear that he felt Malfoy smirk around his cock. He arched his back and jerked his hips upwards into Malfoy’s mouth as he pressed down on Malfoy’s head, but Malfoy continued at his pace and hollowed out his cheeks to create an airtight suction.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Harry gasped, panting for air. “Please, Malfoy. I’m so close.”

Malfoy appeared to take pity on Harry and sped up his efforts, clenching his jaw and taking almost all of Harry’s cock into his mouth, swallowing forcefully around the head. Harry called out for every deity he had ever heard of as his orgasm washed over him, pulling Malfoy’s head back slightly so that he wouldn’t choke.

Harry watched through hooded lids as Malfoy immediately spit on the floor and cast a spell to clean it up. “I’ll never get used to that taste,” he said, making a face.

Harry sighed contently, letting his eyes slip closed. He felt Malfoy crawl up his body and press his naked cock into his thigh, breathing heavily into Harry’s ear. “You still want me to ‘do you’?”

“Mmm,” Harry groaned, smiling. “Yeah, I do.”

“Have you ever done it before? With a guy?”

Harry nodded. “It’s been awhile, though.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Malfoy whispered, licking the shell of Harry’s ear. “ _Lubricatos_.”

Something cold and creamy instantly appeared between Harry’s legs, but he only cringed for a second. Malfoy’s fingers were inside him right away, probing and stretching, and Harry threw his head back against the pillow as his prostate was grazed.

“It’s amazing how near death experiences make people want to fuck,” Malfoy hissed in a low voice, kissing around Harry’s ear and digging his hard cock further into Harry’s thigh. “We’ve each had three, and that’s just today.”

“I’ve had five,” Harry countered breathlessly, pushing against Malfoy’s fingers. “You tried to kill me twice the minute you saw me.”

“Technicalities.” Malfoy lowered his head to suck on Harry’s neck, running his tongue along the collarbone. “Are you ready?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry groaned as Malfoy’s fingers wiggled rapidly against his prostate.

Malfoy slowly withdrew his fingers and pushed Harry’s knees up to his chest, positioning himself for entry. Harry inhaled sharply when Malfoy started pushing his way in, trying his best to relax. He felt Malfoy’s lips on his chin and turned to meet them with his own as Malfoy buried his cock inside him, pausing briefly before beginning to move.

Harry wouldn’t have pegged Malfoy as a slow lover, yet he was. Soft grunts were absorbed by Harry’s skin as Malfoy took his time pulling all the way out only to slam back in again. The suspense of it actually made it better, and Harry could feel his own cock hardening again.

Malfoy seemed to notice this and reached his hand down to wrap his fingers around Harry’s stiffening flesh. He stroked as slowly as he fucked, making circles around the slit with his thumb while pounding against his prostate. The double stimulation was enough to drive Harry mad; even with the slow pace, he was ready to come again within no time.

“Potter,” Malfoy panted, losing his rhythm slightly. “I -”

“You know, we _are_ having sex,” Harry pointed out. “You could at least call me by my first name.”

“It’s hotter this way,” Malfoy said decidedly. “Now, I might bite you when I come. I just wanted to warn you.”

“Okay,” Harry said, not really caring. “Can you go faster?”

“What, like _this_?” Malfoy immediately tripled his speed, thrusting into Harry as fast as was humanly possible. The abrupt contrast brought Harry’s orgasm out of nowhere, exploding from his cock into Malfoy’s hand and on both of their chests. Malfoy followed directly after, sinking his teeth into Harry’s neck as Harry’s clenched arse squeezed his cock to completion.

Malfoy remained on top of Harry for a few seconds before heaving himself up and rolling off to the side. He reached for his robes, retrieved a pack of cigarettes, lit one with his wand, and offered the pack to Harry.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke,” Harry declined politely.

“Of course you don’t,” Malfoy drawled, flipping the pack closed and returning it to his robes. He took a long drag and muttered under his breath, “Damn, I needed that.”

“You and me both,” Harry replied, still struggling to catch his breath.

There was a comfortable silence, in which Harry leaned back against his pillow and almost fell asleep.

“What do you know about the Horcruxes?” Malfoy asked quietly, blowing smoke rings.

Harry was slightly startled by the abrupt topic change, but answered nonetheless. “How many. What do you know?”

Malfoy’s eyes roamed towards Harry. “I know where they are.”

Harry tried to focus on Malfoy and couldn’t make out his stare. “Does this mean you’re going to help us?”

Malfoy took his time in answering, inhaling the contents of the cigarette then slowly exhaling. “I suppose.”

“I really will tell the Ministry the truth,” said Harry earnestly. “I doubt they will send you to Azkaban if they know that you helped us.”

Malfoy simply nodded. He glanced briefly at Harry as he sucked down the last drag and Banished the butt with his wand. “I’m only going to do this because I’m tired of running,” he declared. “Malfoys do not run.”

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” said Harry, smiling as he closed his eyes. He was pleasantly surprised when Malfoy placed his head on his shoulder and draped his arm across his chest.

“Good night, _Harry_.”

“Good night, _Draco_.”


End file.
